


Breathe You In

by ForbiddenToast



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: America's Suitehearts (Music Video), M/M, idk what to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 12:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7618951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenToast/pseuds/ForbiddenToast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandman loved breathing, but he loved Benzedrine more for making it possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe You In

**Author's Note:**

> Originally submitted to someone on tumblr but I'm finally posting it here because it's probably the best thing I've managed to write in months. That, and there isn't enough suiteheart au in the world and I thought I'd (try) and contribute to it slightly.

Breathing - it can show people who know what to look for a slight insight into a person’s life. For example, shallow or uneven breathing can identify that a person is scared, steady breathing a peaceful night of sleep and heavy breathing could mean someone’s tried running away.

Sandman loves this.

He loves the fact something as simple as a intake of oxygen can expose someone so much, like an open wound. He’s thrived off of it in the past. Gotten a quick kick as he watched people gasp awake a night, breath shallow and uneven after a nightmare.

Sandman also loves the fact that nobody else notices it normally. Unless the privilege has been taken away or reduced somewhat. Nobody is conscious to the fact that _they are breathing_ .

It’s like a dirty secret that everybody knows but nobody talks about and that makes it downright divine. 

Recently though, Sandman’s been transfixed on a certain _someone_ who breathes - adoring the way pretty pink lips suck in the surrounding air and releases it steadily with an air of calmness.

Sometimes Sandman will sit, for minutes at a time, at Benzedrine’s stall in town, watching him breathe. Admire small periodic intakes of oxygen as the man dressed in yellow skitters about his quirky stall; mixing different coloured liquids in vials before handing them off to the public who visit with a smile or a short story to keep bored looking children happy.

Other times though he'll watch greedily as his own hands restrict Benzedrine’s breathing somewhat, watch as his fingers curl around that pale, pale skin while he fucks into him and admire glassy blue-green eyes stare into his as he begs for more. Drink in the short gasps and moans that come when his grip slackens to allow Benzedrine to continue his babbling. And fall in love with how the man’s red lipstick smudges messily, in a way so unlike Benzedrine, over his flushed cheeks, the pillow and Sandman’s own painted on smile.

Then afterwards Sandman also gets to watch small, identical bruises form on Benzedrine pale skin; when Sandman himself is struggling to breathe through the mess of possessiveness and anxiety gnawing away at him when he realises he has this, he’s _allowed_ to have this. That Benzedrine also wants this and _wants_ Sandman to curl around him at night and be the first thing he sees when he wakes up.

It’s almost like a good dream, a really good dream.

But despite that sometimes bad days crawl in, like unwanted bugs and rainy weather, and it makes Sandman choke. Living, breathing and even loving becomes too much and sometimes he wonders that  if he stopped breathing would anybody notice? After all, nobody notices breathing in the first place. Why would they if he stopped?

Except Benzedrine would.

He notices Sandman's hitches and gasps in the middle of the night when black makeup runs down his face because of the tears. He notices the way the black haired man's hands shake and tremble until he can't hold anything. Notices how his painted on grin doesn't always reflect what's going on inside his head.

Benzedrine always notices.

It started when Benzedrine noticed his shaking hands one day when they were in public and gave him a quizzical look through his glasses as he mixed some green liquids in a flask together. Sandman had thought nothing of it, thought the doctor was just lost in thought, but later that night; once his stall was closed Benzedrine had asked and held his hands in his warm ones, promising him that someday, somehow he'd make it all go away.

“ _Don't make promises you can't keep.” Sandman had said as the other man’s hands drifted up to his arm and traced the markings there with careful fingers. “It'll get you in trouble with the devil some day.”_

_Benzedrine however, was unfazed and kept going, until he reached Sandman's bare shoulder. “I intend to keep it.” He said softly, like he hadn't had his breath stolen minutes before by Sandman's lips on his neck in the forest, out of the view of the judging public. “And I heard you can make deals with the devil.”_

“ _Hardly.”_

_Benzedrine merely laughed lightly at Sandman's dark mood as they walked towards home. “We must consider all options if I'm to keep that promise.” He joked when gave him a look unlike anything he’d seen the man in black give him before._

And while Benzedrine hadn’t made a deal with the devil, he had kept his promise and made it easier to breathe. But not with weird chemicals or sweet songs like Sandman originally thought he would try - Benzedrine simply made it easier because he was always next to him breathing.

In a weird way, Benzedrine was Sandman’s lungs; doing all the work for him. And while there was still bad days where Sandman would choke, splutter and cry he knew there’d be a good day with _his_ Benzedrine just around the corner.

_“That’s not logically possible,” Benzedrine said  into Sandman’s neck when he told him that one night. “I cannot be lungs to an already functioning-”_

_“I didn’t mean it literally,” Sandman replied through a small laugh. “I mean you kept your promise - the one you made years ago.”_

_And at that all Benzedrine can do is smile into the soft skin of Sandman’s neck, happy at the thought._

_“I did?”_

_“You most definitely did.”_

Sandman loved breathing, but he loved Benzedrine more for making it possible.


End file.
